by BA Tortuga
“Hoof rot on one and one’s a rescue. She’s been beat half to death and is scared of the fucking world. I may have to just put her down, but I hate that.” Sage shrugged, shook his head. “Taco Cabana okay for supper? I ain’t wanting to cook.”
“That sounds like a fine plan.” Dakota was loving their taco in a bowl thing because he could get it on lettuce, which was nice and cool.
“Good. We can get it to go and eat at the house. I’m covered in horse shit.”
“You didn’t have to drive to town to get me if you were busy, man.”
Sage shrugged again. “I want the company. I’m pissed at asshole bastards that get their jollies off hurting things because it makes them feel like men. It was either pick you up or grab a pair of bolt cutters and start going after some folks’ nuts.”
“Fair enough.” Just the thought of that made Dakota’s balls try to crawl up into his body for safety. “You just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Will do.”
Dakota pondered asking after Sage’s man, but he thought that might be a sore spot, so he didn’t bother. Sage would say whatever he needed to, one way or the other.
“So, how was work?” Sage was making small talk, which Dakota thought was the cutest things ever.
“Sweaty. Dirty. You know, work?” He had to grin, because he was one of those guys now. Tanned and muscled and having to buy new shirts again, because fat had become skinny in prison and skinny was becoming muscly out of.
“I do. I was just teasing Adam last night about how he was gonna get soft, being one of those frequent-flier dudes.” Sage pulled into the Taco Cabana drive-thru not long after they left the construction site.
“Is he home again?” He pulled a ten out of his pocket. “I’d like the bowl deal with beef and everything and a nacho and a big iced tea, please.”
“He will be tomorrow morning.” Sage’s grin was like sunrise on a Sunday morning. “He’s got nothing lined up for almost a month that will take him out of town.”
“Well, thank goodness for that.” He clapped Sage on the shoulder, letting his smile answer Sage’s. “I know you’re ready.”
“Hell, yes. I think we’re gonna have a talk, me and Adam.”
“Yeah? Good on you.” He wasn’t getting in the middle of that, but he was glad Sage felt like he could say something if he wasn’t thrilled. Dakota wanted his friend happy, right?
Right.
Sage leaned out the window and ordered, adding Dakota’s cash to his and handing him back two singles.
He carefully tucked the money back into his billfold. That would go to Jorge’s cigarette fund.
“I need to talk to him about camping for Jayden’s birthday anyway,” Sage said. “You’re coming, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, if it’s okay. I looked at the Walmart, and I can just do without a tent and have a sleeping bag for nineteen bucks. I just need that and food, right?”
He still had the swim trunks Jayden had given him and a dollar pair of flip-flops for the lake.
“Shit. I know Adam has five tents of various sizes, man. Don’t worry about gear. And we can pool our money for food, if you want. That way we all get more. Jayden is over the moon about this. Weird, huh?”
“Yeah. Do…. Should I, uh, I mean, are you getting him a present?” How did grown-ups deal with that?
“Maybe a card? I dunno.” Sage chuckled. “I reckon we’ll get some kind of cake or cupcakes or something. I’ll call Momma and ask.”
“Cool. I can go in, if y’all are okay with it.”
“Sure.” Sage grinned at him. “I make Adam deal with that shit, mostly, but he says everybody’s different, you know? It’s weird, though, the things you don’t know.” He stopped and smiled even wider. “You know?”
Then Sage cracked up. Goofball.
Dakota chuckled along, nodding because it was true. Sage and him had been of an age when they went to jail, mostly, and while they came from completely different backgrounds, they had both missed out on all the years that made a man feel like an adult and not a faker. He was playing by ear every day.
“So, Jayden really seems to like you,” Sage said, making Dakota blink.
“You think? He was real nice to me at your house.” It was like Jayden had—maybe not understood, but heard him some, and hadn’t made him feel like trash. That night had been a bad one and a good one, all at once. He had been sleeping better, leaving the window open in his bedroom to let the breeze in.
Jayden made him feel—well, made him feel. That was a minor miracle.
“I think so, yeah.” Sage’s eyes crinkled up. “I mean, he’s new to me too, you know? But I think he needs some friends.”
“Yeah? But he’s like almost famous.”
“Let me tell you something I learned from Adam. Wealthy and famous don’t have to mean dick on the friends front. I mean, I got lots of friends—Troy, Eric, you. There’s a bunch of us that eat at the diner three times a week and talk livestock. I got Adam. But some of them guys he helps? They got no one they ain’t paying.”
“Ouch.” Dakota couldn’t imagine that for Jayden. The man was good-looking, smart, and seemed genuinely kind.
“I know, right? It’s fucked-up. Far as I am concerned, God can leave me a plain old cowboy.”
“You’re good the way you are.” Dakota grinned. “I haven’t figured out what the hell I am yet. Is that freaky?”
“Nope. Some folks never figure it out. I never was anything else.” Sage finally got his turn at the window and got the food, passing it over, then handing him the drinks. “Fix my straw, man?”
“Sure.” It was easy and wonderful and normal and precious. Dakota pulled off the paper and sniffed hard, the smell of taco meat and beans making his mouth water. Funny, though, how being in prison had made food a necessity, not a way to dull pain. Exercise had become his coping mechanism instead, which Dakota guessed was good enough.
They headed out to the ranch, both of them singing along with the radio, howling like demented hound dogs. He’d learned all about Hank Williams since he began hanging out with Sage, and he’d known most of the George Strait stuff already, just out of self-defense as a Texan. Sage was teaching him about red dirt music too, which was so prevalent in Austin.
He loved the way all this shit had stories, that the music was this real, living thing. Sage told him that they’d go see some of them, see some little rodeo concerts together. They were coming up on what Sage called cowboy Christmas, after all. The Fourth of July was a big time for rodeo.
“You think Jayden likes the rodeo?” Dakota asked.
“I bet he’s never been, but he’d love it. He has a hidden redneck in him, I think. It happens.” Sage was like the Gandhi of Cowboy Convicts.
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll ask him to one.” His cheeks heated at the very idea of doing something so… date-like.
“You ought to. He’d be tickled shitless.”
“Maybe I will.” He could, right? Right. Fuck yeah. He so could. Jayden was a nice guy. The worst he would do was say no in a gentle way. “Can I jump online at your place after we get all the animals taken care of? Look up the season around here?” Dakota had been to the Houston rodeo every year as a kid, but the stock show rounds were well over.
“You can, sure. I got the local shit printed out too.”
“Cool. Thanks.” Dakota couldn’t stop grinning, thinking about the idea. He’d save up between now and early July and have enough to treat Jayden to tickets and a corny dog.
“Anytime.” They pulled up to the ranch, and he grabbed the food while Sage got the drinks. “You want to sit outside?”
“Yeah.” No reason to get all chilly in the AC and then go to the barns.
They settled on the steps, Sage’s dog, Penny, sniffing around for anything they might drop. “Hey, girl,” Dakota said, rubbing her ears before he squirted salsa on his burrito bowl.
They fell on the food like locusts, packing it away before leaning back and groaning i
n concert. “Damn, that was yummy.”
“I know, right? Shitty fast-food Mexican can be so damn wrong it’s right.”
Dakota nodded, standing so he could gather trash. “I was empty as a worm. Let me grab us a water, and we’ll get to work?” He didn’t want to waste Sage’s time. Ranch work was never-ending.
“Works for me. I’ll deal with the garbage.”
Before he knew it, they were in the barns, Sage whistling up the horses for their supper. The beasts were huge, but there was something fascinating about them, something about the way they looked at him that made him happy, balls deep. They were smart enough to be evil, Sage said, and God knew, they had teeth and hooves that could damage a man, but Dakota liked the horses.
“What should I start with?” Dakota asked.
“They all need a little sweet feed tonight, and then we do their water and all. Then I’ll hand you a currycomb and let you do some quality grooming time.”
“Works for me, man.”
“The little gal in the farthest stall is the one that’s hurt so bad. I’d let her be.”
“Okay. Does she have a name?”
“Not yet.”
“Huh.” That sucked. From what he understood, which wasn’t a whole hell of a lot, horses were smart as dogs, and they probably needed names.
Sage gave him a sideways look. “You have a look at her, see if anything comes to you.”
“You sure? I don’t want to scare her.”
“Being alive scares her right now.” Sage chuckled. “Don’t get too close if she starts to kick and cry, but it can’t hurt for her to see and smell you around if you’re gonna be helping me out.”
“Okay.” Dakota headed down to the last stall, wanting to see this poor mare because he already felt for her. He knew what it was like to be so damned beat-up that you couldn’t bear the idea of one more touch.
He brought the sweet feed over, doing what Sage told him, just talking about nothing at all, but making all the right noises that made the fear back off. She looked up at him, a huge scar running down her face, her eyes rolling and showing the whites.
Dakota automatically lowered his voice even more, murmuring nonsense. He let her see him for a long while, let her scent him from four or five feet away. He could do this, could get her to let him feed and water her at least, because she needed him to. This was all about her.
“You sure are pretty with your brown and black. I like that. You got spots on your sides like the Indian ponies did? When I was little, I read all about them, riding on the prairies and all, you know?”
She flipped her tail, still giving him the side eye as she moved all the way to the back of her stall. He thought maybe that meant she was ready for some food, so Dakota stepped closer, just slow and steady, six or so inches at a time.
“I have food. It’s good stuff. Smells like Christmas to me, sorta.”
Sage chuckled. “All the molasses, huh?”
“I guess so. Yeah. Oats and shit, right?” His mom had never been a big baker, but his Aunt Cathy had loved to get in the kitchen.
“Exactly. My horses get the good stuff.”
He poured a little bit out and then backed up, giving her space. Dakota didn’t move too far, though, because he wanted her to associate food with calm, with him and Sage and their low voices and gentleness. She had to start to learn somewhere. Kinda like him with Jayden, who really felt like the Dakota whisperer or something.
He chuckled at himself, feeding the horse in the next stall over a handful before the soft nudging over the fence became biting. This one was a lover, nibbling at his shirt, and Dakota could see why Sage put him next to the nameless mare. This gelding would be a great influence on her.
“Hey, Nugget. You hungry too?” Nugget was all one color—tan and pretty, with great big brown eyes.
They all got fed, one way or the other, then Dakota repeated the whole process with water. Sage set him to mucking out one stall while Sage dealt with the horse with hoof rot. Then Sage handed him a brush and a currycomb. “Start with Nugget? That way the new girl can see you.”
“I can do that.”
“You’re a good guy.” Sage nodded, turned on the little tinny radio to KGSR, and left him to it.
“I don’t know about that, but I’m trying.” He eased himself in the stall with Nugget and got to work. Nugget leaned into the brushing, letting him know just where he liked it. Lord, brushing out a horse gave a man muscles, and they were greedy beasts, not wanting him to move on once he was done. Sage came into each stall behind him, picking hooves and examining them for cracks and overgrowth.
“Should I try this new girl?” he asked. Montana, he thought. Montana was a good name for a pretty girl.
“Hmm.” Sage looked into Montana’s stall, pursing his lips. “I tell you what. Not this time. But why don’t you leave your shirt in her stall. I’ll lend you one of mine to get home. That way she has something to get used to. You did great feeding her, so I’ll have you work with her every chance you get.”
“Yeah? Does that work?” He stripped the shirt off and hung it on the hook where Sage put the brushes and buckets and all. “That’s sort of cool.”
“It is. My daddy taught me that with horses and dogs. Like if you get a new puppy and put an old shirt in the crate with him, he starts to associate you with good things.”
“Huh.” His dad hadn’t taught him shit he intended to remember, but he wouldn’t disrespect Sage by saying so.
“Come on and have an iced tea and a sit. I’ll get you a shirt, huh?”
“Surely. Thanks for letting me come help.”
“Shit, thank you. It’s nice to have help a couple three days a week, and I know Azel’s got his sister coming back to stay at your place, huh?”
“She’s sleeping in his room, and he’s taking the sofa, but yeah, a little weird.”
“I bet. I know when Rosie came to visit last year, we had a time, and that was her staying in the extra room with her little one. When you’re used to just being guys….”
“No one minds if you burp?”
“Or scratch your balls.” At Dakota’s cackle, Sage winked. “It’s true! Hay and dust works its way back there and what? You’re supposed to just wiggle it out?”
That was it, all he could take. Dakota started laughing, just cracking up loud enough that Penny started barking and bouncing, wanting him to play.
He slapped his thighs and bent to blow a raspberry at her, which always made her put her butt up and her head down, her tail wagging madly. Oh, she made him smile.
Dakota caught sight of one of her tennis balls, and he grabbed it, then sent it sailing through the air, and the pit took off like a fuck-starved jackrabbit, bounding through the tall grasses. Sage disappeared into the house, but Dakota knew he’d just be making up tea and probably something sweet. Sage was weirdly old-fashioned that way, pure country Texas boy.
He tossed the ball another two dozen times until she was panting, and then he went to make sure she had fresh water and to spray himself with the hose. The worst of the heat was finally letting go, and the hose water was nice and cool, once he let it run awhile. By the time he climbed up on the porch, Sage had some music going, and a plate of cookies and Little Debbie cakes sat on the kitchen table along with a pitcher of tea.
“You want to hop in the shower, go ahead, man. Towels are clean in the guest bath.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“I appreciate it.” He could absolutely stand to get clean.
“I’ll pull that info up for you on the rodeos. Jayden’d prob’ly go with you in a second.”
His heartbeat kicked into high gear at the thought. “Would that be freaky? To think of it as a date?”
“Why? He’s gay, you know. Like, a lot.”
“As opposed to a little?” He had to ask, had to.
“Yeah. I mean, he’s been out at work and all for years. Hell, Dakota, I’m not sure Jayden was ever in the cl
oset.”
“No? I don’t guess I was in for long, huh?” He’d told the cops he was queer when he was arrested, for fuck’s sake.
“That’s different. Although I will totally get you a rainbow flag if you want.”
“Shut up!”
“That’s what I thought. Go wash up, bud.” Sage waved him off before grabbing the sleek little laptop Adam had bought him.
Dakota ducked into the bathroom, thinking about Jayden, wondering how many—what? Lovers? Dates? Whatever. How many guys Jayden had been with. Dakota didn’t even know how to phrase that.
Of course, if he asked that, he had to answer it, and he wouldn’t do that. That would be the end of any sort of date-type thing. He had the scars to prove it—a shank wound to his belly, an X carved into one asscheek, and a heart made of cigarette burns on the bottom of his left foot.
Okay, there. No stressing the date thing. He’d just invite Jayden as a friend, and if he pretended they were dating when he remembered it, no harm, no foul.
He turned the water to lukewarm, but at Sage’s he could run it for a good bit, because Sage was on a well and didn’t yell at him for running up the bill. He turned his face up to the spray, feeling the soreness in his muscles that came from a good day’s work.
He stretched and twisted, let himself smile and relax, the water washing a shitload of sins away. They needed to camp somewhere there was a lake. Him and Jayden and water seemed to go together.
He laughed when a pair of board shorts and cheap-assed flip-flops slid into the bathroom door. Sage got it. Wearing sweat-soaked jeans after you showered was nasty.
Nas. Ty.
He toweled off before dressing and heading back to the kitchen, where Penny lay belly up, feet dangling in the air while she snored.
“Thanks for the shorts, man.”
“No big. I had a load to do, so I threw your jeans in.”
“You’re a good guy.” And it said a lot, a whole shitload, that Sage could open the bathroom door while he showered and he hadn’t noticed.
Sage grinned, eyes crinkling up. “I am a prince among men. I printed out a sheet for you.” Sage’s phone rang, and he grabbed it. “That’s Adam. You want to go watch some TV, I’ll be in after a few.”
